


dreams

by artistical_failure



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Angst, Other, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, aka the only character I self-project onto, r.i.p wally, sorry buddy, vent piece mostly, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-07 01:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20301037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artistical_failure/pseuds/artistical_failure
Summary: sometimes, wally dreams





	dreams

**Author's Note:**

> this is really just a bit of a vent piece, bc I haven’t exactly been feeling the best lately, & I tend to project onto Wally a lot fjshsh
> 
> but this is also something that’s been in the making for a while, bc from what I’ve seen in the show, Wally’s mood seems to shift between ‘I’m-fantastic-and-everyone-love-me’ and ‘everything-is-my-fault-I’m-to-blame-I’m-a-horrible-person’, and that was kind of interesting to me. I wanted to explore the second, darker option first, but i also wanted to approach it in a way where it’s obvious that Wally has already had these thoughts before. They’re the norm for him. They still burn him to his very soul, but he knows how to deal with them — because after all, the most heartbreaking response to “are you alright?” is “it hurts, but it’s okay. I’m used to it”
> 
> AND ON THAT HAPPY NOTE, LET’S BEGIN, SHALL WE??

He dreamt he was falling.

Falling down an endless pit of darkness, except it probably wasn't endless, and he would probably hit the bottom soon and die.

He couldn't bring himself to feel scared.

The wind whipped through his hair as he fell. He stared up at the sky, which seemed so far away now.

Maybe it was better this way.

* * *

Darkness.

Familiar voices whispering all around him, and he couldn't make out what they were saying but knew they were talking about him.

And then suddenly he was surrounded by mirrors, mirrors that emerged from the blackness and the word 'MONSTER' scrawled across them in something red as he stared at himself in the mirrors.

He grinned.

And then he laughed.

And then the mirrors were gone and the whispering had stopped and all there was was darkness once again.

Darkness and the sound of his laughter.

Because the mirrors didn't have to tell him he was a monster.

He already knew.

* * *

A beautiful sunset from a cliff view.

Bruce was there, too, for some reason, and he turned to him and his eyes were black. He said, "Don't you wish you deserved to see this light?"

Wally smiled. "Not really."

Bruce grinned wickedly. His teeth looked too sharp. "Good. 'Cause you don't."

Wally’s smile never wavered. "I know."

The sun vanished, and Wally was plunged into the darkness again. Somehow, he could still see Bruce.

Bruce, who said, "You're all alone."

"I don't think I am."

"They all left."

Wally tilted his head. "You're still here."

Then Bruce was gone.

And Wally was truly alone.

* * *

Silence.

No more darkness.

Wally looked up. Clark sat across from him. Next to them was a stack of books, so high he couldn’t see the top.

They were in a library.

“How does it feel to be weak and unworthy?” Clark asked, and he flashed Wally a grin. “To be nothing but a liability to the team?”

Wally picked up a book from the stack. He turned it over. “This is Cinderella.”

“You’re a fraud, you know.”

“I’ve always been more of a non-fiction fan,” Wally told him. He set down the book.

Clark’s eyes flashed. “You’re no hero.”

Wally smiled apologetically. “I’m not a much of a reader, either.”

The scene dissolved, and so did Clark.

And then there was silence.

* * *

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted out from the kitchen.

Wally looked around.

_A bakery?_

Somehow he wasn’t surprised.

John, who had suddenly appeared, slid into the seat opposite from him. He set down two cups of coffee. “So.”

“So,” Wally said.

“This is a pretty realistic dream.”

“Pretty realistic,” Wally agreed.

John nodded. He laced his fingers together, staring intently at Wally. “And this is a dream, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You ever wish you could live in a dream?” John asked.

Wally shrugged. He curled his hand around the coffee and took a sip. “Not really.”

John stared at him. “Your reality sucks.”

“It really does.”

“You could stay here.”

“Could I?”

John raised an eyebrow. He shrugged. “You could. You should.”

“Oh?” Wally took another sip. “Why’s that?”

“Your friends don’t really care for you.”

“You look like one of my friends,” Wally pointed out. “You’re not more caring than him.”

“I could be.”

Wally smiled. “Nah.”

John’s mouth quirked up in a way that was eerily familiar. “Why don’t you stay here?”

Wally smiled again and took another sip. Then he set the cup down and stood from his chair. “The coffee’s cold.”

And then the scene dissolved, and everything was black once more.


End file.
